Emily looked up in surprise, “They plan to pin Emma's death on me?” “Yes,” Mr. Satan replied softly. “Jackson was too careless.” “He was just trying to help me...” “I know, which is why I don’t blame him. Emma, who had lost all morals for money, deserved her fate, but her death has made many things more complicated.” Emily's shoulders slumped. “It’s my fault. I couldn't hold back and ended up hurting her…” “I know,” Mr. Satan said, handing a cup of hot water and placing it in her hands. “Have some water. You've talked a lot today; you must be thirsty.” The glass was warm, almost hot, but drinkable—the perfect temperature. This was the temperature she was most accustomed to. She always had a sensitive stomach and preferred drinking water slightly hotter than usual, something Mr. Satan remembered. She took a small sip, feeling the warmth slide down her throat and settle comfortably in her stomach. He turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. Emily was startled, “Mr. Satan?” “Yes,” his voice was close, “Emily, are you ready?” His footsteps drew nearer, and he finally sat down beside her, causing the bed to sink under his weight. He had said that once they were home, he would be honest with her. Had the day finally come? “Emily, there’s a very ugly scar on my face. I’m afraid it will scare you, so I turned off the lights first,” he said. Emily's heart pounded uncontrollably. Her hand was gently held and slowly placed on the white mask she had seen countless times. The mask wasn’t too cold, already warmed by his skin.Covering her hand was Mr. Satan's slightly sweaty palm. His usually dry and warm hand indicated he was nervous too. “I should have shown you my face a long time ago,” he said, reaching behind his head to untie the strings. The mask was about to fall, but Emily's hand held it in place. “Emily, how you want to take it off, when you want to take it off, is entirely up to you.” Mr. Satan's breathing was slightly rapid, his warm breath brushing against her face. Emily, already tense, felt her heart beating like a drum. She was familiar with the nights in room 2307, but never had she felt time stretch this long. Emily slightly released her hold, and the mask fell into her hand. With a careful motion, she removed it. In the darkness, she could only make out the general outline of Mr. Satan's face. His deep-set eyes, high nose bridge, full and broad forehead, and sharp yet steady jawline— Without the mask, he must be very handsome. Emily’s hand gradually moved upward, touching the skin on his left cheek where there was a coin-sized scar, starkly different from the smooth skin elsewhere. “Is it here?” Her fingertips brushed gently, like a feather. She pressed a little harder, carefully tracing the scar. “The scar is big, isn’t it?” Emily shook her head. “Emily, are you afraid of me?” Emily spoke softly, “What I fear isn’t the scar on your face but the past of yours that I don’t understand.” Mr. Satan leaned closer, making it easier for her to see, “Do you need me to turn on the light?” “No,” Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, “I’ve already grown to love the dark.” Mr. Satan chuckled, “You’ve married an ugly man. You can’t regret it later.” “I won’t,” Emily buried herself in his arms, her ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “You should have told me sooner.” Mr. Satan lifted her and placed her on his lap, holding her tight. “…Yes.”“...Women tend to overthink, especially pregnant ones.” “Okay, I know I was wrong.” “Mm,” Emily adjusted herself into a more comfortable position in his arms, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment of tranquility. “Now, you should explain who Penelope is.” Mr. Satan laughed, “Are you jealous?” “Not exactly jealous. She doesn’t deserve that, but shouldn’t you be honest with me? Do you know how hurt I was when another woman answered your phone?” “I know, I know, Emily, I’m sorry…” Emily wasn’t unreasonable; she was willing to give him a chance to explain. “Mr. Satan, how should I address you in the future? Vincent or Simon?” “Which identity do you like?” “Neither,” Emily said, “I only like Mr. Satan in room 2307 at the Hilton.” Mr. Satan chuckled, “Then continue calling me Mr. Satan if you like it.” Emily’s voice held a hint of grievance, “Why does Penelope know you’re Simon? I only found out recently…” “She was an accident.” “An accident?” “Yes,” Mr. Satan said. “You decided to marry Nathan back then. I had no right to stop you. I could only watch you two get married. I was very depressed during that time. That’s when I saw Penelope. She looked somewhat like you. She was being harassed by some thugs, and I saved her.” Emily stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “One day, I got drunk and said some things. I thought she was just a regular hostess, listening to her clients complain every day. I didn’t expect her to remember everything I said.” Emily pouted, “This story tells us never to underestimate anyone. Even a hostess could have an excellent memory.” Mr. Satan laughed, “Indeed. But because of her face, I couldn’t bring myself to deal with her harshly.” “What do you mean by harshly?”“Silence her.” Emily shuddered slightly. She could guess that “silencing her” wasn’t anything good. “Don’t be afraid,” Mr. Satan laid her down on the bed, covering them with a blanket, lifting her head to rest on his arm, their foreheads touching. “Emily, I’m not a saint. I harbor hatred, jealousy, and self-interest. I’ve done many ruthless things in the business world, causing many rivals to lose everything. When Penelope guessed my identity, I did think about silencing her for good. But I was afraid. Afraid that one day you’d know the whole truth and think I’m cruel, and reject me.” “Emily, I know you’ve always wanted an ordinary life. I tried to be as ordinary as possible, but you still married Nathan. That’s when I realized that my ordinary self couldn’t keep you.”